


Found in Odd Situations: Maple and Beer

by Fire_Bear



Series: Found in Odd Situations [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (for a brief time), Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Porn actors, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:32:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9186449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: Gilbert is lonely, even if he won't admit it, so he's rather glad that Matthew (Alfred's brother) deigns to go on dates with him. But, as their relationship stretches into the months, what problems will these two share?





	1. First Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is set before and during and probably after the main part of Found in Odd Situations.

"It'll be awesome!" cried Alfred, gesturing wildly and not caring that he still hadn't pulled on his clothes.

"Ja, ja," said Gilbert, dismissively. He was trying not stare at his vital regions but, with the way the American was sitting, they were practically calling to him. As it was, he was currently looking at his chest – which still didn't help his situation.

"Tonio, you'll come, won't you?" asked Alfred, turning to the Spaniard now.

The sound man glanced up from where he had been packing up his mics and grinned at Alfred. "Sí!" he exclaimed as he straightened up. "When will it be?"

"Dude, were you seriously not listening?" sighed Alfred, folding his arms and successfully jolting Gilbert enough to turn to his own equipment. _Stop staring_ , he told himself. _He's not awesome enough to fuck, just remember that._

"Sí," replied Antonio, cheerily.

" _Valentine's Day_ , dude. It. Will. Be. Immense."

"Is that soon?" asked Antonio.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "It's on Saturday. Did you seriously not know?

"No," said Antonio and closed the case with his things in it. "Is there a dress code?" he asked.

"Nah, you could just come as you are."

Antonio tilted his head as he surveyed Alfred. Gil snorted, knowing what was coming. "Does that mean we can come naked?"

"What?!" cried Alfred, scandalised. Then he looked down at himself. "Ah, sorry. I'm waiting for the shower."

At that point the en suite door was wrenched open. Gilbert winced and ducked behind his camera. In the doorway was a rather angry Asian man – Chinese, Gilbert seemed to recall – with a towel around his waist. Today had not been a good day for the team. First, Yao had protested having to have sex with Al again because he was "never satisfied" afterwards. Then the script was really bare and they had to keep stopping because Yao and Al were getting into arguments. The atmosphere had been strained and they ended up having angry sex. Angry sex was never good, in Gilbert's opinion. Make-up sex was better. Not that he knew, of course, because he was too awesome to get into arguments.

Or actually be in a relationship.

Pushing aside his thoughts, Gilbert peered around the obstruction and watched as Yao retrieved his underwear – a pair of briefs which would probably have fitted a kid – and retreated back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Gilbert was sure he had seen a Hello Kitty sewn on it. Or had he been seeing things?

Alfred sighed heavily and Gilbert straightened up, carrying on with his task. After a few moments of awkward silence, broken only by the tripod being dismantled, Alfred spoke. "I'm not gonna have a partner next week, am I?"

"Nein, probably not," said Gilbert with a shrug. It was Al's own fault, after all. If he would only let himself form a bond with them instead of sitting up as soon as Francis called 'Coupez' and asking how amazing he had been, then he'd have a permanent partner by now.

Then again, he supposed Alfred was simply waiting. Eternally waiting for that special someone. Gilbert couldn't blame him. He was waiting for the same thing. But it was kind of hard finding someone being an albino in Los Angeles. After all, going out in the sun was rather difficult and he looked ridiculous every time he protected himself from it. Half the time, he just gave up and got burnt. The price of finding a soulmate was high.

 _High temperatures_ , he thought to himself then internally laughed and high-fived himself.

"Sucks," muttered Alfred.

"Quite literally," said Gilbert with a grin.

Alfred frowned at him before understanding and sticking out his tongue. "Shut up, man! I've invited you to a party! You can't be mean to me!"

"Actually, _because_ it's at the weekend, I can make fun of you extra now so I don't at your party." Gilbert's grin widened and Alfred rolled his eyes before his lips twitched into a smile.

"So you're gonna come?"

"Ja. Can't miss our star attraction's party!"

At that point, the door to the room opened and everyone looked up to find Francis walking in with a smile. "Gilbert, Antonio," he said as he entered. "We have a _trés_ cute couple to film down the hall. Follow me. Et Alfred?"

"Yeah?"

"I shall see you next week, oui?"

"Or at my party this weekend – you can all totally meet my brother, Mattie!"

"Oh, the one you're always telling us is awesome?" asked Gilbert. "I can't wait to meet _him_." He grinned widely just to watch Alfred shudder in horror. Winding up the American was hilarious.

"Dude, don't you _dare!_ "

"Ah, come on, Amerika. If _I'm_ the one dating your bruder, then at least you know I'm awesome, right?"

"No way!" wailed Alfred as Tonio and Gil stood up with their things. "That'd just be weird!"

"Ja, ja. I don't care," said Gilbert with a grin as Antonio followed Francis out. "I'm still going to talk to him. You can't stop me."

Alfred sighed dramatically. "Fine. Just don't weird him out too much, 'kay. He's still a little wary about this." The American gestured around the room.

"I'm only a cameraman," said Gilbert with a shrug. He opened his mouth to continue when the bathroom door opened and Yao emerged. The small man glared at Alfred who stared back. Then the glare was turned on Gilbert, who quickly jumped out the way. Briefly, he considered saying something to the tune of 'lighten up' but decided against it as Yao swept past him.

Once he had left, Alfred let out a breath. "Well, gonna get washed up. See ya at the party, yeah?"

"Ja," said Gilbert, leaving the room.

* * *

Herakles and Kiku were quite cute together, Gilbert had to admit. Boring, but cute. Herakles hardly spoke and Kiku seemed reluctant to say anything besides 'welcome home' in Japanese when Herakles entered. Usually, Herakles just pulled Kiku to the bed and they went at it.

Which meant that Gilbert had to stifle yawns. He was glad of this, though. The other couples had a lot of fun with it (unless it was Alfred – his partners always complained and he didn't seem to find it as fun as he had when he had first started). When they did, it was usually fun and sexy and Gilbert would watch avidly. With these two, Gilbert let his mind wander.

It had been a few years since he had come to America. The boring company he had worked for in Germany had expanded and opened a branch in LA and he had been transferred to help start it up. Unfortunately, it had been a flop and they had closed it down. Gilbert had been let go and he had decided to stay in America since he still had his work Visa for a few years.

Francis, a friend he had made from his neighbourhood, of course, found his vlog which he had been keeping (out of boredom) on YouTube and had asked him if he would like to be part of his team. Gilbert readily agreed and the three friends had formed their own porn company.

It still made Gilbert laugh when he thought of the ridiculousness of it.

However, in all of those years, he had never gotten laid. It wasn't because he couldn't get dates or anything. He just went by the rule of 'no sex on the first date' and he never seemed to get past that first one. There was no reason why – he consistently told everyone that he was awesome and just how awesome so he didn't understand them not wanting a second date.

He wasn't lonely, though. Oh, no. He had Francis and Antonio. Sure, Antonio had his Lovi. And Francis often had some sort of date...

Okay, yes – Gilbert was a little lonely.

But only a little.

* * *

Alfred's party was taking place in his flat, not far from the business section of LA. This was probably for his brother's benefit, rather than his, as Alfred had often told the trio that his brother worked in some sort of company. Something to do with sales. Gilbert couldn't remember what exactly.

The three of them arrived together, Antonio still moping about being turned down by Lovino when he had invited the Italian to the party. Francis had no date, either, but Gilbert had no doubt he would take someone home with him. And, finally, of course, Gilbert had no-one. Not that he cared or wanted anyone to be there. After all, it would be more fun, not being tied down by a significant other.

They buzzed the intercom and were answered by a blast of noise and a voice saying, "Guys! Come on up!" There was no noise to indicate that the door unlocked but, upon pushing it, the door swung open. Thankfully, there was a lift, for Alfred had informed them that he lived on the sixth floor.

As they rode up, Gilbert checked he had everything. Francis spotted him checking on a hip flask. "What on Earth have you got that for, Gilbert?" he asked, sounding bemused.

"Kesesese," was Gilbert's answer. Then he explained: "That bruder of Al's sounds way too prim and proper. So I decided to spike the punch – metaphorically speaking, of course."

Antonio grinned. "What if Al's brother does drink?"

"Then I shall say 'Prost!' to him."

The three of them laughed as the lift reached their destination and the doors slid open to reveal a wall of noise coming from an open door along the hall. Alfred appeared as soon as they stepped into the corridor and he grinned at them. "Guys!" he called to them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Bonne Saint-Valentin, Alfred," Francis replied, smiling at him.

"Feliz Día de San Valentín!" said Antonio.

"Happy Valentinstag!" cried Gilbert, striding forward with a grin. He threw his arm around Alfred's shoulders. "Now, where is your awesome bruder, hm?"

"Dude, no," admonished Alfred. "I'm not gonna introduce you to him. Well, not that I could. He's in the flat somewhere but I have no idea where- Oh, hey!" he added to some newcomers. "How's it going?!"

"Shall we?" asked Francis to his friends, gesturing to the door.

"Ja! I am ready for bier!" exclaimed Gilbert and, with that, burst into the flat.

The apartment had a small hallway which led all the way along it. There appeared to be a living room on one side and a kitchen on the other, both filled with people dancing to some sort of American pop song. Another two doors were firmly closed, presumably the bedrooms. At the end was another door, slightly ajar, which Gilbert presumed was the bathroom, mainly because no-one was in it yet the light was on.

"Shall we spread out?" asked Francis, eyeing a couple of giggling women who were glancing at the newcomers.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. There was no way he wanted to be in the background whilst Francis chatted up girls. "Ja. Come on, Tonio. Let's-"

But Antonio was chattering excitedly into his phone and Gilbert, realising this probably meant that Lovino had called him, rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen.

There were quite a few people there, beers and alcopops in their hands, chattering animatedly with each other. They all ignored his presence as he slipped through, looking for the tell-tale signs of non-alcoholic drinks that a businessman might drink. None of those were around, however, so he shrugged and pulled open the fridge on the search for beer.

* * *

A few hours later, Gilbert was bored. The American beer was awful and hadn't succeeded in getting him drunk at all. Francis had long since disappeared with the two women from before. Lovino had turned up and Antonio was currently trying to get the Italian to show him some affection. And the host was currently flirting, rather drunkenly, with one of his straight friends. Gilbert could tell that was going to end well.

And so he found himself leaning against one of the walls in the living room, eyeing the games consoles. Perhaps he could encourage people to get out of the way so he could entertain himself.

"Hey," said a voice beside him. He started, gasped and looked round, glad that his bottle of beer was nearly empty so none of it spilled. The cameraman found himself gazing at a blonde-haired man. His hair wasn't cooperating, however, and a stray curl stuck out. Behind his glasses were a pair of dark blue, almost violet, eyes. Gilbert thought his skin looked soft and he found himself wanting to touch him to find out if it was.

Then he noticed his clothes: a pair of worn jeans and a hooded sweatshirt which had a large maple leaf on the front. Definitely not party clothes. After all, Gil was dressed to the nines. Or at least, that was how he considered it. Gilbert was wearing tight black jeans, a metallic belt wrapped around his hips. His shirt was thin and dark and he had left it open to midway down his chest.

"Are you bored, too?" asked the man whom Gilbert suddenly realised looked an awful lot like Alfred. Perhaps he was the allusive brother. Though, Gilbert could hardly believe that, since he was having a hard time hearing him over the music and background chatter.

"Ja," muttered Gilbert. He yawned for effect and grinned when he heard his companion chuckle. "Are you Alfred's bruder?"

"'Bruder'? Ah, yes. I'm Matthew." The man stuck his hand out. Gilbert took it and shook. "I wish he hadn't insisted on a party. I have a lot of work to do, you know. And it's annoying watching all of those couples."

Gilbert nodded his agreement. "Ja, it's like they are pushing it in our faces. My friends have long since disappeared on me." He pouted.

Matthew chuckled. "So, how do you know Al? And why do you still talk to him?"

Snorting in amusement, Gilbert said, "I work with him. So I kind of have to continue talking to him."

"Oh," said Matthew, looking downhearted.

"I'm only the cameraman," added Gilbert quickly, remembering what Alfred had said about Matthew being dubious about his career.

"Oh!" exclaimed Matthew. "I-I didn't mean..." He bit his lip and cleared his throat. "Is it, er, difficult?" he asked.

"Nein," said Gilbert, dismissively. "Just have to point and shoot, really. What about you? What is it you do?"

"I work in a homeware company. In the sales department. I just crunch numbers all day. It's not that exciting but, sometimes, we get really busy. And it never fails to be around a 'holiday' and one of Al's parties."

"Ah, poor thing," said Gilbert and took a swig of beer. "So I take it you're more of a stay at home kind of guy?"

"Well, no-one bar Alfred remembers to invite me to parties. And I prefer to be comfortable at home rather than dressing up and going to a bar or anything. I mean, some of the stuff people wear to go out is ridiculous," Matthew replied. Gilbert raised an eyebrow and his eyes flickered down to his own clothes. He had probably just lost his chance of getting into this guy's good books with what he was wearing. But then something adorable happened: Matthew noticed his glance and his cheeks became a little pink as he grew flustered. "Ah, no! Not that you- I mean, you look _amazing_ -! Er... Sorry."

"That's fine, Vögelchen," grinned Gilbert, automatically giving Matthew a nickname. He found that he did that, sometimes, with people he was attracted to. Quickly, he took another sip of beer and glanced round the room, hoping Matthew couldn't see his blush. Though, it was probably painfully obvious, what with his fair skin.

"Where do you come from?" asked Matthew, sounding interested.

Gilbert returned his attention to him to see Matthew blinking at him, a cute little action which made the cameraman freeze and his breath catch a little. Willing himself to calm down and _act normally_ , he answered the question. "From the awesome land of Prussia!"

Matthew frowned. His confused face was rather adorable. "I thought Prussia was dis-"

In a flash, Gilbert had his ears covered. "La la la, not listening!" he cried. When he removed his hands, he heard Matthew snicker.

"So you're speaking German, hm?" he said, graciously ignoring the last few seconds.

"Ja!" cried Gilbert, raising his beer in the air before draining it. "Ah, I'm all out. You'll still be here when I return, ja?"

Nodding, Matthew smiled at him. "Unless I have to drag Alfred off his friend before he kisses the guy. That one's kinda freaked out by that." Glancing around, Matthew leaned in and whispered to Gilbert surreptitiously. "I think he's possibly bisexual but he doesn't want to admit he's attracted to Al."

Laughing uproariously, Gilbert stalked off. He made sure he wiggled his hips a little and that he walked as though he hadn't a care in the world. After he had exited the living room and was out of sight of Matthew, however, he quickly dodged around everyone to reach the fridge. There, he found that there were only two beers left so he snagged them both, intending to give one to Matthew.

He paused before he re-entered the living room to assess his situation. As soon as he had seen Matthew, he had felt as if he'd been stunned. So, he was obviously attracted to the man. However, getting him into bed may cause problems between him and Alfred who would no doubt be annoyed if he used his brother before moving on. Perhaps the best plan would be to actually open himself up to the thought of a relationship. Ask him on a few dates and suchlike.

Taking a breath, he went in – only to find poor Matthew trying to drag Alfred off his friend. With a grimace, Gilbert placed the beers on a nearby table and hurried forward to help.

"Oh, hey... Gil!" slurred Alfred.

"Hallo," sighed Gilbert, heaving him off the poor man whose eyes were wide. He looked rather helpless, really. "What should we do with you, hm?"

"Probably best to get him to bed," said Matthew, quietly.

Alfred, however, seemed to have other plans. "Noooo," he moaned. "Don' take m'way!" He struggled against Gilbert's hold and almost succeeded in making his way back to the rather distressed man. Said man decided to take his leave. _About time,_ thought Gilbert. _He should have left as soon as Alfred started hitting on him!_

"Oh, nein, du nicht!" grunted Gilbert, hauling Alfred away from him again. "Come on," he added as he began to guide Alfred through his home. Matthew followed and helpfully pointed out which room was Alfred's. They didn't bother turning on the light as Alfred seemed only semi-conscious. After depositing the porn star on the bed, his brother and cameraman quickly exited and returned to the party.

Gilbert clicked his tongue when he found his beers missing. Though, it hadn't been very good beer, to be honest, so he pulled out the hip flask as people began to filter out. "Want some?" he asked Matthew.

"What is it?"

"German bier," answered the Prussian.

"Sure." Matthew took the flask and a gulp. "Huh. This is better than what Al buys."

"Ja," agreed Gilbert. Seeing a spot on the couch, he vaulted over the back and landed, sitting. "So, tell me more about you. Al hardly tells us anything."

"There's not much to tell really..."

* * *

They talked for hours, not paying attention to the lack of other party-goers. All sorts of topics were put forward like sports and books and music and they laughed often. In the wee hours of the morning, their talking became mumbles and Gilbert slowly reverted to German until, finally, they were both fast asleep on the couch.

When Gilbert woke the next morning, he sorted through his head what had happened the night before. Reassured that he hadn't had sex with anyone which would end up with an angry sibling in the face, he sat up, yawned and stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal his stomach.

"Ah, eh..." said a voice. He turned to find Matthew staring at the bottom of his shirt. The other man blinked before forcing his violet gaze to Gilbert's. "I've made breakfast but would you like to shower. I can find you a change of clothes, I'm sure."

"Ja!" exclaimed Gilbert, grateful for the hospitality. He hadn't expected to be treated so kindly – he had reckoned that Matthew would want him out of the apartment as soon as he woke.

"Right, well, the bathroom's down the hall. Let me just get you something..."

Gilbert followed Matthew down the hall, stopping outside of Matthew's room. The quiet man entered and reappeared soon after with a pair of baggy jeans, a belt and a t-shirt with a polar bear on it, declaring it was from a zoo of some sort. "Cute," Gilbert commented.

"Uh, yeah..." said Matthew, blushing slightly.

Grinning, Gilbert wandered down the hall, Matthew following and instructing him on the complexities of the buttons on the shower. Closing the door behind him, he stripped, imagining Matthew watching him. His heart beat a little faster as he thought of him, perhaps, admiring Gilbert's body verbally. He would definitely have to ask him on a date.

As quickly as possibly, Gilbert showered, using the shampoo and soap he found. He grabbed a towel and dried off, dressing just as fast as his shower had been. Just as he had finished tightening the belt, the door opened and he was almost bowled over as Alfred rushed into the room. The noise of Alfred retching and the vomit hitting the water in the toilet bowl caused Gilbert to wrinkle his nose. With the least amount of sound possible, Gilbert sneaked from the room and hurried to the kitchen. He wasn't sure if he should stay, given Alfred's condition and the likelihood he wouldn't take kindly to his presence.

However, when he poked his head in the door, he found Matthew carefully placing stacks of pancakes on three different plates and he decided that he would stay and damn the consequences. "So you make pancakes," said Gilbert as he sauntered in, eyeing the maple syrup which seemed to be pride of place on the table. When he glanced back to Matthew, he found him staring. A pancake slowly began to slip from the spatula Matthew had been using to move them from the pan to the plates. Quickly, Gilbert darted forward and caught it before throwing it on the plate as he felt how hot it was. Freshly made pancakes – the smell was tantalising.

"Ah, sorry!" exclaimed Matthew. "Are you okay?"

"Ja, no problem," assured Gilbert. "It was only a pancake. I'm fine." He sat in front of a plate and reached for the butter which was in a fancy dish. "Pancakes are the best, ja?" he asked Matthew.

The cook grinned. "Yep, definitely. Though Al still insists that Pop Tarts are better."

"Ew!" cried Gilbert. He lifted his knife and fork.

"Wait!" gasped Matthew. "What about the maple syrup?"

"Huh?"

"You haven't put any on."

"Well..."

"Here," said Matthew and he grabbed the bottle, opened it and poured a liberal amount on all three plates. "That's better," he added with a smile. It suited him, that happy little smile, and Gilbert wanted to see him smile like that more often.

So, as he cut into his pancakes, Gilbert cleared his throat and said, "Hey, what're you doing on Saturday?"

"Uh, probably more work. Why?"

"Since I'm so awesome, I've got the day off work. Do you want to... I don't know... go see a movie? Or something?" Gilbert tried his hardest not to look at Matthew. If he did, he knew he would blush and, with his fair skin, it would be terribly obvious.

"Oh... Uh, well... I suppose I could spare some time." Gilbert glanced up to find Matthew blushing quite brilliantly. He grinned to himself. "Here, let me give you my number." Matthew hurried from the room and returned as quickly as he could with a piece of paper. Gilbert tucked it into the pocket of his borrowed jeans and nodded at Matthew.

"Danke," he said.

"De rien," said Matthew, using the French he still remembered.

As they gazed at each other, smiling, Alfred stumbled into the room and froze. Matthew looked up and grinned, a little devilishly in Gilbert's opinion. Gilbert went back to eating, intent on letting the brothers chatter to themselves.

"Uh... Morning?" said Alfred, cautiously. "Did you... both... have a good night?"

"Ja!" said Gilbert, cheerfully, knowing exactly what Alfred was trying to ask.

"It was fun," added Matthew.

"Right..." said Alfred. He sat down and began to eat, obviously unsure if he wanted to continue the conversation.

Gilbert decided to take pity on the guy. "Well!" he said as he rose from his place. "I'm going to head home. I'll see _you_ at work," he told Alfred. "And I'll see you Saturday?" he asked Matthew.

Nodding, Matthew's cheeks turned pink again. "Yeah."

And with that, Gilbert left the two to talk about what had happened the night before. He imagined Alfred would be quite embarrassed at his actions and that he would be quite eager to know what Gilbert had still been doing there in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Mattie isn't really that bothered by his brother working in the industry, just that he might end up getting hurt by someone (emotionally).)


	2. Second Week

The day before Gilbert was to meet Matthew for his date, he managed to reach the hotel at the same time as Alfred. For a moment he considered taking the stairs. But they were situated at the very top and he couldn't work up the energy to climb all the way there. So, hesitantly, he stepped into the lift with him.

"Hallo," he said, looking up at the numbers indicating the floor they were on.

"Yo," said Alfred, flashing a brief smile. Silence lasted only one floor, Gilbert timing how long it took for Alfred to speak again. "So... You're going on a date with my brother."

"Ja," said Gilbert with a shrug.

"Right. Just..." At the hesitancy in Alfred's tone, Gilbert glanced at him. He was frowning, looking deadly serious. "Be careful with him, okay? Don't hurt him."

Gilbert grinned and gave him two thumbs up. "Sure thing, Kamerad. Don't worry about him. He's in safe hands with me."

"Hm," said Alfred, frown deepening. Then he shrugged and grinned. "Hey, d'ya know if I've got a new partner?"

"Don't think so," replied Gilbert. "As far as I know, we're filming Lukas and Mathias to begin with before moving on to... Who was it... Yao and Ivan, I think."

Alfred scowled. "What, so Yao prefers _him_? But he complained I was way too heavy! Ivan's no better!"

"Sorry, man. Not my fault," Gilbert told him as the lift reached their floor. He shrugged and stepped out, Alfred following.

As they passed the room Francis had claimed as his own, however, the door opened and the man himself peeked out. "Ah, Gil, Alfred. Bonsoir. Could you set up in room four, Gilbert? And Alfred..."

"Yeah?" asked Alfred, pulling a face.

"S'il vous plait, come in." The director opened the door wider and stepped aside for Alfred to enter.

"That answers _that_ question," muttered Alfred as he obediently did so. Gilbert nodded and wandered off to his own destination.

* * *

It was the big day. His date. First time in a while.

How was he supposed to act again?

Gilbert was getting nervous – though, if you were to ask him, he would likely tell you that he didn't do something as unawesome as getting nervous. But he remembered what Matthew had said about people dressing up to go out. So should he wear something casual? Did dates count?

Glaring at his wardrobe, he wondered whether he should wear something similar to what he had at the party the previous week. Or should he wear his one good suit?

He closed the doors and peered at the mirror. Taking a breath, he said, "Right. It's just a date. Find something badass like you wore the last time you were on one of these and it will be fine. Right?" he added, addressing the bird in the corner of the room. It chirped cheerfully and Gilbert took that as a sign that he was right. "Ah, Gilbird. You totally understand me."

So he flung the doors open once again and pulled out an outfit in black. Tight black jeans, metal belt, black and tight-fitting shirt, wristbands and a black collar to complete the look. Actually, maybe the collar was a bit much, he debated. Taking it off, though, his neck looked bare. Maybe the chain with the cross? It was short and might attract attention to the part of him exposed without looking stupid.

Twirling round, he threw out his arms and once again addressed the little yellow bird which sat in its open cage. "What do you think?" Once again it chirped before spreading its wings and gliding over to him, landing on his shoulder. "Ah, come on you. _You_ can't come." Gilbird seemed to cheep sadly. "Sorry, little dude. I'll buy you some awesome treats tomorrow, okay?"

And, once Gilbird had flown back to his perch, Gil was on his way.

* * *

Nervously, Gilbert pressed the buzzer and waited for a response. Finally, after an eternity of waiting, a voice sounded through the speaker. "Yeah?" Alfred, Gilbert realised.

"Hallo, Al. Er... Is Matthew ready yet?"

"Oh, uh, hang on," he answered. "MATTIE!" came a yell, causing the Prussian to jump. "Your date's here!"

Some odd noises sounded, rustling and bangs, a few scraping ones and, eventually, Matthew's softer voice. "Oh, eh, I'm so sorry. I'll be down right now!"

"Don't sweat it," replied Gil with a shrug Matthew couldn't see.

He waited for five more minutes, leaning against the railing on the steps outside the building, until Matthew came rushing out of the door. "Oh, God, Gil! Sorry, I was just running a little late today. What's the plan?"

Gilbert only stared in response. He had known that Matthew was attractive but he had only seen him in baggy clothing. Tonight, he was wearing jeans which hugged his hips and white shirt pulled tightly across his chest. A chequered, red and white shirt hung over it, a little lopsided. His blonde hair was messy and a lot of it covered her eyes. Hurriedly, he pushed it out of the way, one curl stubbornly sticking out to bob in the breeze.

"Gil?" asked Matthew when he stood there, blinking in surprise.

"Wow, Vögelchen," murmured Gilbert, running his eyes up and down his date's body. "You clean up _good_."

Adorably, Matthew blushed. "I- That's-" He cut himself off and took a breath. "A-Anyway... Where are we going?"

"Oh, I thought we could get something to eat before we go to the movie theatre. Would you like to go to Wurstküche?"

"Sounds good to me," said Matthew with a bright smile. Gilbert grinned back and escorted him back to his car. "You know, I don't think I've ever had anything German before."

"Well, Vögelchen, you'll get something German very soon." Gil winked at the other man as he clambered into the car, Matthew following suit with a slight blush. "Seriously, it's not too far away," he added with a smirk.

For a moment, Matthew looked flustered. Then his expression changed slowly into one of understanding. He blew out an amused sigh. "I see. What do you sug-?" He broke off, obviously realising what Gilbert would say.

Indeed, Gilbert quickly interjected as he pulled out of the car park. "Definitely the sau-"

"Okay, okay!" cried Matthew, obviously torn between exasperation and amusement.

"In all seriousness, though, Vögelchen, you should totally try the sausages. They. Are. _Awesome_." He glanced to his companion and grinned before returning his attention to the road.

"Yes, okay. I'll try some."

"Of course, after the date, I can give you more German-"

"Gil!" exclaimed Matthew, hitting him on the arm this time. Gilbert only chuckled, relishing in Matthew's cute face as he squirmed at the implications. "Moving on," said the bespectacled man, firmly as he pushed up his glasses. "What movie are we watching?"

The Prussian shrugged. "I don't know what's on. I figured we could just pick whatever's showing when we got there."

"What if there's nothing but period dramas when we turn up?"

"Then you had better put on your best bonnet, Vögelchen."

At that, Matthew let out a laugh. "Okay. It'll be nice not to have to plan anything."

"You _plan_ your trips to the theatre?" asked Gilbert, incredulously.

"Yeah," replied Matthew with a shrug. "Otherwise me and Al'll miss it. He always dithers about until we miss the showing and he's hard to please with films. If _he_ turned up and it was only period dramas, he'd whine and refuse to go in. _Even if_ it was his fault."

Gilbert laughed as he pulled in at the restaurant. "Ja, that sounds like our Al."

Matthew surveyed the building they were parking in front of. "Looks rather small," he commented. "Are you sure we'll get a table?"

"Eh, we can always get it to go." Gilbert shrugged as he turned off the ignition. "Eat it in private in here." He patted the wheel. "Ah, if you don't mind...?" he added, his eyes flickering over Matthew's face. Would he be appalled at this? Maybe he should have booked a table in a fancy restaurant...

However, Mattie just smiled and nodded. "Sure. Sounds like a good idea."

He had to fight not to say 'Really?' - that would be voicing his nervousness. Instead he flashed Matthew a grin and got out of the car. His date did the same and they walked into the small restaurant.

Small tables filled the room. A counter displaying several different sausages faced them. In all honesty, it looked like a specialised diner. Gilbert glanced at Matthew but the other just hurried over to a free table he had spotted and dropped down onto one of the metal seats. With a small smile, he followed suit and watched as Matthew grabbed the menu to see what he could have.

"Rattlesnake? Wow," stated Matthew, an eyebrow raised.

"Ja, they have some really awesome sausages," said Gilbert with a nod.

Matthew returned his attention to the menu and Gilbert watched. His brow furrowed a little as he obviously read over the exotic section. Gilbert had to agree that there were some odd combinations. He continued to watch, though, as Matthew began to bite gently at his lip, concentrating, deciding. Finally, he looked up and noticed that Gilbert's eyes were glued to him. The blush which instantly sprouted warmed Gilbert's heart and he grinned back at him.

"Well, er," said Matthew, shyly. "What do you suggest I get?"

"The exotic and gourmet stuff are awesome but I would totally suggest the bratwurst. After all, it's closest to my German sausage-"

"Gil!" The blush darkened.

"I meant the sausage I had back in good old Prussia," said Gilbert, innocently, the grin still firmly in place.

"Oh..." said Matthew, turning his head to look at the counter. "I- Well, if that's what you suggest..."

"Good choice, Vögelchen. Do you want the fries, too?"

With another quick glance at the menu, Matthew nodded. "We could get a large portion and, um, share..." he murmured.

Nodding, Gilbert stood to order and was quickly back with his date. "Looking forward to your German sausage?" he asked with a cheeky wink. Matthew blushing was really attractive.

"Er..." said Matthew, eyeing him. "Yes."

"Gut." And, with that, Gilbert had run out of things to talk about. He already knew so much about Matthew from their conversation the week before. Everything they had discussed, he remembered. Matthew's favourite food (pancakes), his favourite TV show (some Canadian thing from his time there), his favourite colour (red), his favourite animal (polar bears – he adopted one at a zoo once and named it Kumajirou). So what did they have to talk about now?

"Did you..." began Matthew, hesitantly, after a few moments of silence had passed. "Did you have a nice week?"

Grinning, Gilbert said, "Well, I got to watch porn for free and without any of those computer viruses. So it was pretty awesome."

"Don't you get... frustrated?" asked Matthew, appearing to be genuinely curious.

"A little," Gilbert found himself saying. His face heated and he glanced away, praying that their food was ready. "Er, how was _your_ week?"

"Oh, it was okay, I guess," replied Matthew with a slight grimace. "Someone in my department was ill so I had extra work to do."

"Verdammt. You didn't overwork yourself, right?"

"No, no. And, somehow, I managed to get it all done. Just glad my boss didn't yell at me."

"Does he yell often?"

"Er," said Matthew, pulling a face. "Well, I suppose he does. A bit. But it's mostly him shouting at his boyfriend."

"Ja, gay guys can be real uptight sometimes. My friend's Liebe yells at him for no real reason. I think he bottoms too much, you know?"

"Argh, Gil, shush!" cried Matthew, shaking his head, face red. "Don't put that thought in my head!"

"Kesesese! Ah," Gilbert added as a waitress came over with their food and drinks. "I got us gut bier, by the way," he told Matthew as their plates and glasses were placed on the table in front of them.

"Oh, thanks," said Matthew, both to Gilbert and the waitress. He eyed the long sausage before glancing up to Gil who was still watching him. There was a short pause while Gilbert tried to figure out what he was waiting for. "Well?"

"Hm?"

"Aren't you going to say anything?"

It seemed the blonde expected Gilbert to say something laced with innuendo. Instead, the cameraman shrugged, deliberately reigning himself in. "No, not really."

"Right." And so Matthew lifted the roll with its tasty sausage and bit into it.

"Enjoy your German sausage," said Gilbert, grinning now. Matthew choked a little and Gilbert laughed louder. "Entschuldigung, sorry. Don't mind me." He waved his hand and took up his own one, savouring the taste as he bit into it. As he chewed, he moaned, remembering Germany and missing it a little.

"It was cooked in America," Matthew was finally able to say, a smug grin aimed at Gilbert. "Doesn't that make it my sau-" And Gilbert choked and laughed, trying hard not to spray Matthew with half-chewed food.

"Mein Gott!" exclaimed Gil once he had gotten his breath back. "You're not as innocent as you look, are you?"

Once again, Matthew was red-faced. "Eh, yeah. Are you okay? Maybe I should have waited till you had swallowed..." There was a few seconds of silence before they both broke down in laughter. The other people in the restaurant glanced around at them before returning to their own meals.

"Oh, wow," Gilbert finally managed to choke out. "You're really awesome, Vögelchen!"

"What does that mean?" asked Matthew as they tucked back into their food.

"Er," said Gilbert, taking a quick sip of his beer. It flowed down his throat like a comforting hug, as though it was telling him that it was okay to translate for him. _This is going to be embarrassing_ , he thought despite this. "Birdie."

"Birdie?"

"Ja."

"Why 'birdie'?"

Gil shrugged. He honestly had no idea. "I don't know. Seemed as good a name as any to give you."

Matthew smiled at him. It looked rather fond and Gilbert could feel himself melting a little. "Maybe I should give _you_ a nickname."

"Uh-"

"How about, 'Ice Cream'?"

"Cream? Really?" asked Gilbert, grinning once again.

"Shut it, you!" said Matthew, hitting his arm.

"But, in all honesty, why 'Ice Cream'?"

"Because I really lo- like ice cream. Like, like it a lot," babbled Matthew, his cheeks looking quite warm again. Nervously, he pushed his glasses up his nose.

Feeling his heart swelling at the rather odd nickname, Gilbert smiled at his date. He was very cute. "You can call me whatever you want, Vögelchen."

"Okay, then, Crème Glacée," said Matthew with a grin.

"Speaking of ice cream, I take it you'll want dessert?" asked Gilbert, pointing to the menu.

Matthew looked at it, read it over and nodded vigorously. "If you don't mind."

"No problem. I'll go order it now," Gilbert said, wiping his hands off on a napkin. Matthew only nodded in response and took a sip of his own beer. When he returned to the table, he noted that most of Matthew's drink had disappeared. "Do you like it, then?" he asked, nodding at the glass.

"Yeah! I need to find out where this comes from and buy some!" Matthew looked so enthusiastic and Gilbert smiled warmly at him as he sat back down.

"I think they import it," Gilbert said with an apologetic shrug.

"Really? All the way from Germany?"

"Ja," Gilbert agreed. "Where only the best sausage comes from!"

With a snort into his beer, Matthew shook his head. "Of course."

"It's true!"

"I know," said Matthew with a somewhat knowing smile. Gilbert blinked and blushed a little, cursing his fair skin once again.

"W-Well, as long as you know."

When the toasted apple pie ice cream sandwich finally turned up, Gilbert was still blushing and Matthew had finished off the last of the fries and his beer. He was eyeing up Gilbert's drink with narrowed eyes. When the plates were put down, however, he brightened up and dove for the spoon. Gilbert stared as Matthew gobbled up the ice cream, occasionally taking a bite of the cookies which served as the sandwich. A few seconds later, his date was finished and licking off the spoon. Gilbert continued to stare until Matthew finally noticed him.

"Um... I _really_ like ice cream," he pointed out. Chuckling, Gilbert pushed his own one to Matthew and the lad's face shone with happiness. "Really?"

"Ja."

Without further ado, Matthew dug in. Gilbert was entranced, gazing at him as he placed the spoon in his mouth and slowly pulled it back out, his eyes closed in ecstasy. When he had finished off the dessert once again, he slowly trailed his tongue along the head of the spoon, lapping up anything extra. Then, to finish, he licked at the spots of ice cream and crumbs from the cookies which covered his lips. Gilbert shivered and blinked, finally able to glance away with a blush.

He coughed. "Er, well. Shall we?"

"Sure," replied Matthew. "Do you want me to pay?"

"Huh? Nein, nein. I've already done that."

"What?" Matthew looked shocked. "You-You didn't need to do that. I can pay for something."

"It's fine, Vögelchen. My treat."

"But..."

Gilbert rose from his place and walked around the table to stand by his side. "Come on. Or there won't be time for a movie." He held out his hand. Matthew paused for a moment before taking it and Gilbert hauled him to his feet. Briefly, with Matthew so close and holding his hand, Gilbert dearly wanted to lean in and kiss those soft lips. However, he swallowed and let him go so they could walk to his car.

He was pleasantly surprised when Matthew hurried to catch up to him and grabbed his hand. Smiling, Gilbert twined their fingers and pulled him a little closer. They walked hand-in-hand the few feet it took them to reach his car.

* * *

By the time they reached the movie theatre, there were only a few films showing within the next half an hour. After a short debate, they decided on Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance. They bought their tickets with drinks and popcorn. Gilbert even got Matthew some Ben and Jerry's ice cream. The blonde was ecstatic and thanked Gilbert for a full minute as they wandered into the screen.

The movie wasn't that great. There were a few points where Gilbert would snigger but, for the most part, he was bored. So, for most of the movie, he watched Matthew. He watched him lovingly eating his ice cream, watched him gently pushing a piece of popcorn between his lips, watched him sucking on the straw for a mouthful of lemonade.

At one point, Matthew glanced at him and he looked away hurriedly. He could feel himself blushing. It was odd, he thought, that he felt rather embarrassed and nervous around the man. In all his previous relationships and dates, he had been confident and forward. Now, though, it was obvious he had been out of the game too long.

Towards the end of the movie, Gilbert wondered if he should kiss Matthew. That's what Americans did, wasn't it, in the theatre? And he was close, leaning on the armrest, leaning in towards him. If he just ducked his head a little...

The noise of an explosion startled him and he sat up straighter. Beside him, Matthew shifted, leaning on the other armrest. He had missed his chance. Sighing, he returned his attention to the movie.

* * *

They gathered up their rubbish and wandered down the stairs when the credits began to roll. "Did you like it?" asked Gilbert, gazing sidelong at Matthew.

"It was all right. Probably could've been better," he answered with a shrug.

"Ja," Gilbert agreed. "Though I did like the bit with the flame-thrower joke." He grinned at Matthew who grimaced before laughing. Gilbert paused by a bin and dropped all their rubbish in. "Do you want to go to the beach or just go home?" he asked Matthew.

The other glanced at his watch. "Ah... It's, eh, getting pretty late. I still have a lot of work to do..." He looked towards Gilbert, his face a mask of apology.

"Sure, no problem," said Gil with a shrug. He grinned at Matthew and held out his arm, hoping his date wouldn't realise how disappointed he was. With a happy smile, Matthew took it and they walked out to the car, discussing the film.

* * *

When they reached Matthew's building, they both stopped in front of the door to the building. Gilbert glanced at it and shifted his weight, even as he tried not to look nervous. "So, uh, do you want me to come up with you or just leave you here?"

"Um..." said Matthew, staring at the intercom. "H-Here will be fine..."

"Right, well," said Gilbert, not sure what else to say. "I... I had fun. We should do this agai-"

"Yes!" Matthew cried, immediately. He instantly coloured when he realised what he had done. "Oh, um..."

Gil chuckled. "Gut. Well. Gute Nacht." He hesitated. Should he kiss Matthew? There was no denying that he had been wanting to for a while. But would it scare him off? And was not doing that on the first date why he never got another, like Francis kept saying? If that was the case...

Without warning, he gripped Matthew's arms and leant forward, pressing his lips against Mattie's soft ones. Quickly, he closed his eyes – he didn't want to see if Matthew was disgusted. However, he was surprised when he felt Matthew kiss back, his arms wrapping around Gilbert's waist. Grinning now, Gilbert wrapped his own arms around Matthew's shoulders. Their lips moved against each other and, at one point, Gilbert gained enough courage to flick out his tongue. Matthew obediently opened his mouth and soon their tongues were melding with each other, twirling and twisting until they ran out of breath. They pulled apart, still holding each other, and smiled.

"We _definitely_ need to do _that_ again," murmured Gilbert.

"Yeah," breathed Matthew. "S-Same time next week?"

Gilbert nodded. "Ja. Gute Nacht."

"Bonne nuit," Matthew replied, letting go of Gilbert reluctantly.

Stepping back, Gilbert watched him unlock the door and enter the building. He glanced behind him as he entered, smiling at Gil. The Prussian grinned back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:  
> I looked up German restaurants in LA and found a list of a few. I picked Wurstküche because it had Wurst in the name. Then I discovered that they pretty much only sell sausages. And then... that conversation happened.
> 
> Since I started this last year (I think) [so that'd make it a good few years ago - ^^"], I set it in 2012. I'm not sure why. But I looked up what had been released in the cinema then and chose Ghost Rider. I've never watched it so I looked up some quotes and based the conversation on that.


	3. Third Month

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Before you read it, I should probably mention... I have never seen Amélie before so please don't get too mad if there isn't a scene in it like I mention towards the end of this chapter. ^^"

"Gilbert, cher, at least _try_ to smile?" sighed Francis from across the table.

Jerking upright, Gilbert eloquently said, "Huh?"

"You have looked like you have eaten something sour for much of the day, chéri."

"Ja..." sighed Gilbert, glancing out of the window.

"Are you going to tell us what is wrong?"

Yawning and stretching, Gilbert leaned back in his seat, barely avoiding whacking Antonio in the face. The three friends had decided to have lunch to discuss the week's work. So far, they had chosen on a diner (after wandering around to try to satisfy both Francis and Antonio's palates) and Francis had told a joke. Not much work-related talk, though. Even so, Gilbert's mind had still been completely elsewhere and he wasn't sure he wanted to share his problem.

"Is it because you are upset we did not go to that wurst place?" asked Antonio, smiling slightly.

"Was-? Nein." Gilbert frowned at his friend. "I was the one to suggest this place and actually get closer to getting food. Though, now that you mention it..." He looked around the busy place, waiters and waitresses darting around the various filled tables. "It may have gotten our food to us quicker."

"Stop avoiding the question, Gil," sighed Francis, tapping the menu laid on the table.

"Tsk, fine," said Gilbert with a pout. "I'm just worried about me and Vögelchen."

"Pourquoi?"

"Well... How long should you wait in a relationship before you have sex? It's already been three months."

"Oh, my!" said Francis, using his hand to hide his chuckling.

"Halt den Mund," grumbled Gilbert.

"You really like Matthew, don't you?" said Antonio, smiling kindly at Gilbert. "Are you waiting for him to be ready?"

He nodded. "Ja. But... how do you tell?"

"Ask him?" suggested Francis with a shrug.

"Hm." After thinking about it for a moment, Gilbert nodded. "But..."

"Oui?"

"We've made out a lot on couches – but, whenever I try to take it further, he backs off and says he's tired or got work to do. And I'm left hot and bothered and having to deal with it by myself." Gilbert sighed. "Is there something I'm doing wrong?"

"Have you been kissing him like Francis?" asked Tonio, grinning.

"Huh?"

"He means, 'French kissing', chéri."

"Ah. Well, yeah. Of course, I use the more awesome version – it's called Prussian kissing."

"I see," said Francis with a raised eyebrow. "Perhaps you should-"

Someone clearing their throat caught their attention and all three of them looked round to find a waiter hovering by their table. The most noticeable thing about him was his huge eyebrows under his messy hair. Those green eyes rivalled Antonio's, though, and more than made up for them. However, he was not as cute as Matthew – especially with that unimpressed look he was giving them.

"Oui?" asked Francis, smiling at him seductively. Ah: Francis found him attractive.

"What may I get for you?" he asked, his accent unmistakeably English.

"Bier!" cried Gilbert, realising that he had the prime opportunity to annoy the guy.

An eyebrow twitched. "We don't sell that here – we're a diner, not a bar."

"Aww!" whined Gilbert, pouting.

"Why don't I give you water – you can go find some hops to put in it," the waiter managed to say through gritted teeth.

"Come now, cher. He was only making a joke."

The green eyes narrowed. "Hm. So, what would you like?" His words were clipped and forced. Obviously, today was a bad idea.

"I think I shall have fresh orange, s'il vous plait. Et..."

"Tomato juice for me, por favor!" exclaimed Antonio. The waiter merely glanced at him with a raised eyebrow before scribbling both orders down.

"Lemonade!" Gilbert announced, grinning.

"Right," murmured the Englishman. "And to eat?"

"Anything which does not contain grease," said Francis, scrunching his nose up as a waitress with long, brown hair hurried by with heaped plates of bacon and eggs and other similar foods.

"So, a salad?" sighed the waiter.

"Don't you have some French bread or something for him?" asked Gilbert, curiously.

"Possibly. Is that what you would like?"

Francis released a put-upon sigh. "I knew we should have gone elsewhere."

Gilbert was sure he heard paper ripping as the waiter dug his pen into his notebook. "If you would rather be elsewhere, do not let me stop you. After all, we are having to turn people away at the door." The man had an impressive glower.

"Non, non. I just need more time to decide."

After an angry pause, the waiter eventually growled, "I'll go get your drinks." And, with that, he hurried off. They waited till he had gone to the counter to talk to the waitress before they chuckled to themselves.

"He is very easily wound up," commented Antonio.

"Ja." Gilbert chuckled till he noticed Francis gazing at him over steepled fingers. "What?"

"Going back to our previous conversation, I think that you should proposition him. Kiss him into a frenzy and then specifically ask him what he wants. If he says no to sex, you should try to find out why. Perhaps he had a traumatic or embarrassing experience, so you will have to be delicate about it. Comprendre?"

Rolling his eyes, Gilbert slouched down in his seat more. "Ja, ja, I get it. Talking."

"Et how is _your_ relationship, Antonio?"

"Es bueno!" cried the Spaniard, grinning.

"Is it really?" asked Francis, sounding dubious.

"Sí, Lovino is as cute as always."

"So you say," snorted Gilbert, amused. Personally, he didn't see the appeal of the angry Italian. His brother sure was cute but Lovino had a nasty temper and a foul mouth. However, Antonio was infatuated with him. Neither of his two friends could understand why: it may be fun to rile him up but they were never sure if he actually showed Antonio the love he deserved.

"Hello, there!" said a cherry, woman's voice. They looked up to find the waitress from before smiling down at them. "My colleague is rather busy so here are your drinks." She proceeded to set them down as they watched. Francis, notably, did not look at her as though he was interested and, when she set down Gilbert's glass, he noticed the engagement ring glinting in the light.

"Must be a lucky guy," said Gilbert, nodding at her hand.

Strangely, she stiffened, her smile fading slightly before she nodded. "Well, obviously." She shot them one more grin before getting down to the business of their orders.

* * *

Gilbert had a home date. Matthew had offered to cook for the two of them as he was still rather busy with work. By his logic, he could work right up to the wire instead of worrying about getting ready to leave. The cameraman didn't mind: Mattie was a good cook.

Of course, Gilbert dutifully stopped off to buy a bottle of wine and some flowers before he showed up at the door. He pressed the button on the intercom and waited. Finally, there was a clicking noise, some rustling and: "Yeah?"

"Hallo, Al!" said Gilbert, grinning. It had taken Alfred a little time to get used to it but, once Gilbert had agreed to never tell Matthew about any of the things he did at work, he was overjoyed to have a friend in his brother's partner.

"Yo, Gil! Come on up!" And the door opened for Gilbert to make his way to Matthew.

When he entered their apartment, Gilbert had to step aside as Alfred – wearing rather tight trousers and a fitted t-shirt – skipped out of it. "See ya later!" he announced. "Off out with friends!"

"Bye, then," said Gilbert, almost as cheerfully. At least they wouldn't be interrupted by the man. Which would be good; Gilbert wanted to try for sex again tonight.

He found Matthew in the kitchen, a red apron on as he stood over the stove, watching a pan. When Gilbert cleared his throat, he turned and smiled at him. It was such a loving one that Gilbert felt his heart swell. He placed the wine and flowers on the table and crossed the room to wrap his arms around Matthew's waist.

"Vögelchen, I'm home!" he declared, pressing a kiss to Matthew's cheek. The other man giggled and nodded. "What are we having tonight?"

"For starters," announced Matthew, waving a large spoon in the air as if he was telling the world a proclamation, "we have steamed mussels with garlic shallots. The main will be a French bistro-style roast chicken accompanied by pommes frites with chives and, of course, baby greens in a balsamic vinaigrette. Then we'll have espresso soufflé with a raspberry sauce. Is it to sir's liking?"

"Oh, definitely." Gilbert kissed Matthew's jaw. "Though this tastes just as good as all that other stuff."

Shaking his head, Matthew squirmed from Gilbert's grasp. "You've not even tried it yet. Besides, _I'm_ hungry – so I'll be eating even if you don't want any."

"Nein!" whined Gilbert. "Don't leave me out!"

Matthew chuckled. "Sit down. I'm just about to serve up."

* * *

Since Matthew had already picked out a wine to have with the meal, they ended up with glasses and Gilbert's bottle in the living room, leaning against each other as they watched a film. It had been Matthew's turn to choose and, after Gilbert's choice of Good Bye Lenin! the week before, he had chosen Amélie. So far, it was fairly interesting.

Not as interesting as Matthew, though.

Gilbert found himself watching the man laughing and smiling, his eyes shining as he watched the French girl's adventures. His hair bobbed as he moved and Gilbert had to resist reaching up to tuck it behind his ear: he didn't want to interrupt Matthew's enjoyment of the film. For a few seconds, he stared at Matthew's lips, thoughts in his head whirling around the prospect of what Matthew could do with them. He shifted a little and dragged his attention back to the film as he felt himself getting hot and bothered.

It didn't take long for his attention to wander back to Matthew. Rolling his eyes at himself, he decided that he might as well act – perhaps he could actually convince Matthew to take him to bed. So he leaned over and tucked a strand of the blonde hair behind his boyfriend's ear. Those pretty eyes turned to his in surprise, wide and shining.

Grinning, Gilbert whispered, "Hallo."

"Hey?"

"Do I need to keep whispering? You won't throw me out for talking during the movie?"

Matthew chuckled and shook his head. "No, of course not."

"Gut!" exclaimed Gilbert, raising his voice. He shifted closer and wrapped his arms around Matthew drawing him to his chest. Obediently, Matthew let him, snuggling into him. Gilbert kissed the top of his head.

Well, that chain of events hadn't gone the way his imagination had dictated. There was supposed to be some awesome kissing! Where had that gone in his plans?

They continued to watch in silence until it came to the declaration of love scene. Gilbert glanced down – was Matthew asleep or could he get a kiss now? "Vögelchen?" he asked.

"Mm?" came the sleepy reply.

"Ah, it does not matter." Gilbert tightened his grip on his boyfriend and let the poor thing sleep through the end.

* * *

Gilbert was on his fourth episode of Supernatural – a TV channel was showing repeats – when Matthew startled awake. "Did I fall asleep?" he gasped immediately, glancing round.

"Ja."

"You should have woken me," said Matthew, shaking his head with a smile. He sat up and stretched, rolling his neck to get rid of the crick. "I'm sorry."

"Nein, nein. Do not worry. I entertained myself for the most part."

"So I see."

"And you're very cute when you sleep."

Matthew blushed. "A-Ah...?"

Flashing him a big grin, Gilbert leaned in. "Maybe I should have kissed you awake." The blush on his boyfriend's face darkened slightly. "Can I collect now?"

"Yeah..." whispered Matthew, a smile playing on his lips.

They moved towards each other and pressed their lips together. Gilbert wasted no time in licking at Matthew's lips, asking for entrance. Matthew gladly let him and Gilbert's tongue flicked over his teeth and tongue. Responding, Matthew tangled their tongues together.

Unable to resist, Gilbert wrapped his arms around Matthew's waist and drew him closer till they were flush against each other. Matthew gasped into his mouth but didn't pull away. Gilbert took this as a good sign.

They kept at it, each eager to devour the other. At some point, Gilbert felt his hand push up under Matthew's shirt. He could feel the other's muscles and smooth skin. His hand continued upwards, the kiss became deeper, desperate. Then he came across a nipple and Matthew jerked back with a much louder gasp.

"A-Ah!" he exclaimed. "I... I have- I just remembered-"

Sadly, Gilbert twisted round on the couch and stretched out his back. "You have work, ja?" he asked, tonelessly.

"Yeah... I-I really do. I'm sorry. I was going to say so after the movie... And Al will be back soon, too. Er..."

Glancing at him, Gilbert caught sight of his boyfriend's apologetic, sheepish expression. Trying to cheer him up, he quickly grinned and stood. "Do I have enough time to go take a piss?" he asked, delighting in Matthew's incredulous look. "What? I've been trapped for hours."

"Oh. Well. Yes, of course."

With a nod, Gilbert hurried to the bathroom. He really did need to pee – and the adventure on the couch had proved to be too much excitement for his poor bladder. After taking care of himself, he emerged to find Matthew waiting at the front door, his sheepish expression back.

"I have work the next few nights," said Gilbert as he approached him. "So... Saturday?"

"Yeah." Matthew smiled at him, looking so happy at the prospect that Gilbert grinned and pecked his cheek.

"See you then!" And, with that, Gilbert was on his own in the corridor. He hurried to the lift so that no-one could see him when he frowned. It had happened again. Whenever they got so close to becoming more intimate than they already were, someone would interrupt and the mood would be gone or Matthew would push him away. Was he doing something wrong? He sighed, ruffled his hair, put on a grin and made his way through the foyer of the building.

* * *

Later that night, Gilbert lay in bed in only his boxers, staring at the ceiling. He had smothered Matthew in attention and kisses and still he stopped him from getting closer, from taking him to bed. There was something he was missing – but what?

All he knew was that he couldn't think straight because he was horny and still not getting laid.

He sighed as he reached down, doing what he had done by himself for so long. Slowing as he reached his the waistband of his boxers, he eased his hand underneath, his breath hitching slightly. It would be much better if it was Matthew doing this – he could just imagine it. Those soft hands running down his body and slipping beneath the barrier, a sexy smirk gracing his features. God, that would be hot.

As his fingers brushed the base of his erection, he imagined them to be Matthew's soft ones, gently running down his length. Then he would grip it and – Gilbert gasped in surprise – begin to stroke him – Gilbert moaned – till he was dripping. After that... Gilbert's imagination allowed him to have a glimpse of Matthew bending his head to him, licking and sucking instead. Meanwhile, in reality, he sped up his own stroking, gripping himself a little tighter.

With a cry, he came – and he slowly let himself drop back into reality. He sighed as he peeled off his boxers and threw them into the corner. In a moment, he'd have to go shower to get rid of the stickiness but, right now, he wanted to wallow in self-pity. Over the past few months, he had grown quite attached to Matthew yet he didn't understand him completely. Why was he keeping him at arm's length? Could they get past this?

He certainly hoped so – if only to satisfy his libido.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original A/N:  
> Good Bye Lenin! is an actual German film. I thought it was good because this is the general gist of it I got from IMDB (where I got the gist of Amélie): A woman's son is arrested in 1989 for protesting against the Berlin Wall and she has a heart attack and falls into a coma. When she wakes up a year later, the doctor tells her son that she can have no excitement whatsoever. However, the Berlin Wall has been torn down and there is no longer an East Germany (where they lived) and the son sets out to make sure she doesn't know any of this. I thought it was heavily appropriate for Prussia.
> 
> I had no idea what Matthew could cook for a romantic meal so I pottered around on Google for a while, asked a friend, Googled some more and ended up with that menu.
> 
> Let's see, what else... I suppose you should know this happens in May. And I've decided the first FiOS happens at the end of July/August. Which means- Oh, a couple of months. Thought it was longer.


End file.
